


tell me about despair (and i will tell you mine)

by LionettHeart



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, but there needs to be some healing first, eventual Beau/Yasha, first fic ever, i just had some feelings ok?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 10:25:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17242571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LionettHeart/pseuds/LionettHeart
Summary: a series of snapshots of cannon and eventual cannon divergent Yasha moments. My girl needs tome time to heal.





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic I have ever written. Chalk it up to that lore dump, but I have some strong feelings about Yasha's character and just want her to be happy eventually. Constructive criticism welcome!

The ceremony was small; just the two of you and a close friend who believed in your love enough to do the binding. Zuella placed her small hand in yours and a soft hemp rope was wrapped around your wrists to tie the two of you together as one. You wanted to spend every day of the rest of your life choosing her, over and over again, and you knew Zuella, your wife, (oh, the joy those words brought) felt the same. You wanted her, to grow old with her, to watch the years pass in this muted, quiet place with her vibrant colors by your side. 

You ended up getting 3 days.

Word travels fast in a tribe as small as yours and Sky Spear isn’t known for her mercy. Rules were rules. They ripped the two of you out of your bed in the middle of the night. Your eyes searched for her in the darkness as you raged against those who would never understand your love and how it is a weakness you willingly chose (and would again). You were outnumbered, for sure, but if you were going to be taken, it was going to be in a puddle of their blood; so you lived up to the name they gave you. From the beginning, you knew this was a losing battle and you weren’t surprised when they eventually forced you to the ground, smearing your face in blood and dirt as they clapped chains on you and drug you out to the center of the village. 

Zuella was already there, forced to her knees in front of Sky Spear, ropes biting into the soft flesh of her arms (not the gentle bonds of your wedding day). She turned to look at you with a gentle, sad smile; lighting up even a night as bloody as this. Gods how you loved her. 

She turned and spit blood at Sky Spear’s feet.

_You loved her._

Sky Spear raised her blade.

_You loved her._

She turned to you, her eyes the last thing you saw before the blade flashed down and you felt true rage for the first time in your life. 

“ _I loved her_ ,” you screamed as your vision went red.

You woke up months later wandering the wastes of Xhorhas and _different _; smelling of lightning at the foot of an alter to a God you never knew in your old life. You found a pool of muddy, stagnant water and when you saw the woman reflected in the water, you didn’t recognize her.__


	2. Stolen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i already had this bit written and figured i would go ahead and add it. this is from when yasha, jester, and fjord were kidnapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, here is ch 2 already bc they are short and i had i dont know how to wait lol

The second time hands came for you in the darkness was years later. You wore your grief like an old shawl. It was still painful, but you had grown used to its weight. You had new friends now; and someone who’s experience with loss of time reflected yours. Molly understood, and, knowing they could not heal your broken heart, offered you flowers instead. You have been learning that there are other ways for beauty to be found in this world and Molly’s colors bled into the world around them, leaving every place they visited a little more vibrant. 

Of course, none of this mattered to the men who forced chains on your wrists and a gag in your mouth as your skeletal wings beat uselessly against the silent night air. They caged you, like the animal you knew yourself to be. Visions of a burning village and blood, so much blood, flashed through your memory. You roared as you saw Jester and Fjord given the same treatment; fear and tears and blood all over their faces. They were too innocent for this, Jester especially and you knew nothing you could do for them would ever scrub this stain clean. Jester’s tears were the last thing you saw before they drug a tarp over top of you and plunged you once more into darkness. This time though, you didn’t have the comfort of lost time. Every second ticked painfully on as the chains wore sores on your wrists and your rage boiled. 

The slavers had a routine and as the days passed you began to learn it. They would wake, one would shout orders, and quickly you would begin moving again. For a long time you would sway back and forth with the rhythm of the wagon and eventually, they would stop, shout more orders and then all would be still. This cycle happened 3 times before it was broken by a sudden burst of shouts and the wagon jolted to a stop. 

You heard voices and explosions. Was that Beau’s voice? Why was she screaming? All too quickly, before you could even begin to hope it was a rescue, silence fell. You heard the deep rumbling voice of your captor and the sound of… weeping? You heard Jester sniffle in the darkness, all three of your minds reeling with worst case scenarios and then you were moving again. No fanfare, no more shouting, but you felt a deep ache in the pit of your stomach at the unknowns you were leaving behind and the torture you knew awaited you in the near future. 

You hoped for death then, for the possibility of seeing Zuella again, there in the depths of the Iron Shepherd’s stronghold. However, these people were masters of their dark craft and they knew how to break people, how to rend flesh without killing the body. They started on you first; making you pay back ten fold for every drop of their blood you spilled when you were captured, but you were grateful. It was the only thing you could offer to your two friends; your body in place of theirs. The Iron Shepard’s boss, a big demon of a man, tried everything to break you, but he didn’t know that you already felt like the husk of the woman you once were when Zuella held you in the night. There was nothing left he could do to break a person who longed for someone in the afterlife. 

When you finally slipped into unconsciousness, you were at peace. 

Later, as most of your friends descended on the stronghold with fiery retribution, your body hung broken and dreaming of brown eyes and foxes.


End file.
